


The Beautiful Game

by Warks1999



Series: Our Favourite Eejits [8]
Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999
Summary: When Pelé spoke of the sport in those terms, he certainly didn't envisage a muddy field in mid-January Derry...Part 8 of Our Favourite Eejits
Relationships: James Maguire/Erin Quinn
Series: Our Favourite Eejits [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045833
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	The Beautiful Game

**The Beautiful Game 13th January 1996**

The rain battered Derry all night and the park showed every inch of that battering. The turf wasn't chewed up, but at eleven o'clock that morning, there was a squelching under foot, the sort that caused people to squirm and footwear to sob. Erin and Clare would have avoided going out in it usually, but Michelle had made it very clear that no excuse would be tolerated. On the other hand, Orla was loving the foul ground conditions and the sound of squelching did for her what poetry did for Erin. Michelle being adamant on their attendance was not a complete mystery to them, with Joe's gift to James earlier that week only making the inevitable come sooner rather than later.

Their Saturday morning fate became sealed the day before, when James and Joe went all in on a horse called Native Crown that was running at Musselburgh racecourse in Scotland. The horse wasn't well fancied at all and set off at 33-1, but it won easily, the two of them winning hundreds of pounds in the process. James, no doubt with Michelle's prodding, phoned up the Quinn house that night with the instructions for them to meet up the next morning. And celebrations with Joe of course. He would be meeting up with Michelle and James first to collect their winnings, so they at least grabbed a lift there once Clare turned up at the Quinn's that morning. There was no rain, but Erin and Clare still refused to go anywhere near the sodden grass with their current choice of footwear.

A couple of minutes later, Michelle and James arrived. Bizarrely, Granda Joe was still with them. Erin expected him to be off home with his winnings, but he was walking along talking to the pair of them instead. Clare made a comment along the lines of 'oh god no' although Erin was that busy staring at the three approaching figures that she barely registered it.

"Morning!" Michelle shouted as they drew within a few metres.

Erin walked forward quickly to dive into James's arms. She could see Michelle's piercing stare from the corner of her eye, but Erin still allowed herself to give him a quick kiss. With Joe stood behind them, they were hardly going to go any further, even if Michelle thought they were going too far already. Joe and James both had full bags of shopping, something noted by Erin and Clare respectively, but Joe began to speak before they could enquire about the contents.

"All you wains ready then".

"Aye Granda". Orla, now stood behind Clare, replied.

"We can't play on there Granda, it's muddy… far too muddy". Erin protested.

"I know". Joe smirked. "That's why we've bought ye all football boots with the winnings".

As much as she wasn't overly keen to play, Erin couldn't help but admire the lengths that James and Michelle were going to in order for them to play some football. She was still learning the passionate side to James and his passion for football served as something she knew she would have to get used to. Perhaps more surprising was the dedication from Michelle. She didn't really like football that much but wanting to see how good James was, and probably attempt to humiliate him, was top of her priority list.

"Wow!" They are cracker!" Orla gleefully announced as she opened the shoebox that hers were in.

A few minutes later, all of them were wearing their football boots. Begrudgingly, Erin and Clare agreed to wear them and play despite their prior reservations and general lack of interest to do so. Joe too announced he would be playing to even the teams up, with both men declaring they would go in goal for their respective teams. Orla and Michelle immediately went to Joe; Orla wanting to be on the same side as her Granda and Michelle wanting to be on the opposite team to James. James was left with the two uninterested participants albeit Erin tried to be lively, knowing how much being able to do this meant to him.

"So, what do we do?" Clare confided in James.

"Well you… wait, you don't know how to play football?" He replied in disbelief.

"James!" Erin cautioned him as Clare shrivelled up. "Don't be insensitive, if she doesn't know, she doesn't know".

"Er… okay, sorry Clare".

Clare accepted his apologies but still wished to know what she was meant to be doing before they started. Football was a foreign language to her.

"All you need to do is try and beat Joe. You can't use your hands, only I can because I'm in goal…" He stretched out his gloved hand as evidence. "… and Erin is on our team so don't try and take the ball off her unless you want her to pass to you".

"How will I know when I want her to pass to me?"

"If you have space you can call her. Or Erin might need to pass to you if she's going to lose the ball".

"Just concentrate Clare". Erin advised. "And ignore Michelle. She'll be a right mouth I tell ye".

They all laughed at Erin's description as it would almost certainly describe what Michelle would be like as soon as they started. Wanting to humiliate her cousin would only add fuel to her self-confident fire.

"We're ready". James called out to the other three.

Placing the ball down roughly in the middle of their pitch, classically marked with coats for goalposts, Michelle got the wee match underway.

* * *

The game of football in the park that morning certainly wouldn't be one to be remembered throughout the ages. Clare was yet to even touch the ball after nearly ten minutes and Erin's touches usually led to the ball going back to Michelle or Orla. Consequently, James became the target of a combined Michelle, Orla and Joe firing squad of shots. All in all, he had already faced fifteen shots but incredibly he was yet to let one of them in between his polyester posts. Michelle realised after the first few attempts that he wasn't lying when he said he had ability as a goalkeeper; he was quite remarkable. She didn't let him know that verbally though and fought her own head in order to maintain the guise of confidence. But with no goals, that confidence was on the wane.

Spotting a gap, Joe played a pass through the middle of their pitch and Clare simply watched the ball sail beyond her and did not pick-up Michelle running off her shoulder onto the loose ball. Erin did her best to get across to Michelle, but the effort was forlorn from the moment she started, leaving her one on one with her cousin. Michelle decided to absolutely leather the ball but amazingly her technique was spot on and James stood no chance as the ball flew over his outstretched hand and in.

1-0

And Michelle celebrated like it was the biggest match the world had ever seen. Which it was to her.

_Sod Roberto Baggio, Michelle Mallon was the fuckin greatest!_

"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" She shouted in his face. "Not so good are we now Dicko! COME ONNNNNNN!"

Orla jumped on her too and they jogged back to Joe who gave both girls a high five but declined to involve himself in the shouting. James, annoyed but ultimately accepting that he could do nothing to save the shot, sighed at Michelle's antics. He shared a look of frustration with Erin and both turned to Clare who looked like she was about to burst into tears. Sensing an opportunity to get her confidence up, James spotted the others still celebrating and passed the ball out directly to her to restart the game.

"Clare!" He shouted.

What happened in the seconds that followed were what he really should have seen coming when surprising the walking cack attack that was Clare Devlin. In her effort to make up for the goal, which was certainly her fault, Clare swung aimlessly at the ball which travelled towards her. Her foot would never see the ball though, wafting over it without having any impact on its direction and simply grazing the air. The sheer force that she put into it came back to haunt her as her the ankle of her standing leg rolled and Clare was thrown forward. The patch of ground in front of her was the most chewed up in the whole of park and she met it face first to the gasps of the others. They were all jogging over to her as her face planted into the turf, James reaching her first alongside Erin.

"Are you ok Clare". He asked.

Eking out a whimper, James and Michelle helped her roll over and they all became aware immediately that Clare was not alright. She was caked in mud, her face resembling that of the turf that it had just been lifted from. Her coat was equally covered in mud and when she spotted it herself, the diminutive blonde shrieked.

"Oh god". Erin put a hand to her mouth.

"I... my clothes…everything… they're RUINED!"

Clare began to cry but with the state of her clothes none of them wished to give her hug and instead they stood around her awkwardly. Joe, being the adult and the wise man of the group, slowly helped her to her feet, James again giving a hand to raise her up steadily.

"I'm not playing anymore, I'm going home!"

"Hold up there". Joe put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not letting you walk home in that state love. Stay her, I'll stand with ye and we can watch these finish before I drive you home".

Clare softened at the unexpectedly kind gesture from Erin and Orla's Granda and it relaxed her enough to agree to the terms immediately. Erin thanked her Granda Joe who accepted it with a smile, before he encouraged the kids to continue playing for another five minutes or so. Michelle and Orla soon took up their positions again, but Erin and James were allowed to start with the ball, a decision Joe made much to Michelle's annoyance.

"Erin". James whispered into her ear. "We're going to win. I have a plan".

"What?" She whispered back.

Michelle watched them with eagle-eyed vision as they spoke into each other's ears. Her code of practice looked under threat from distance and she wouldn't have that in the middle of their football match. To her relief though, the two of them separated and James put the ball down ready to restart.

"OLIVER CROMWELL!"

Erin suddenly roared the name of the English statesman and that made Orla, who'd taken up position in the opposition goal, distracted.

"Where! Where!"

In her excitement at the possibility of one of the people she admired the most being in the park, Orla stepped out of the goal and turned around to see if she could spot him on the horizon, Erin pointing into the distance to guide her. Michelle wasn't fooled but it was far too late for her to do anything as James blasted a shot into the abandoned goal. Orla didn't find Oliver Cromwell but did find the ball and shouted at herself for conceding a goal as she chased after it. Michelle attempted a protest to Joe, believing that him starting on their team and being the responsible adult, he would act as a referee and rightly disallow it. But Joe decided to let the goal stand.

1-1.

Deception and trickery may have drawn them level but over the next few minutes the teamwork and determination of James and Erin kept them in the match. Orla and Michelle both had chances to finish the game, but James produced two fine diving saves to stop them, his Crystal Palace goalkeeper kit becoming splattered in mud the same way as Clare's coat had been. Erin also produced a tackle to make any hardened centre back proud, shoving Michelle off the ball with a vigorous determination.

Joe let them know they had thirty seconds left before he was calling time on their match. Michelle was dribbling the ball towards the goal, with Orla staying back in their goal to let Michelle do it all herself. She went past Erin but in doing so forgot to note the advancing figure of her cousin and James stole the ball off her before she could react to his presence. However, she was nothing if not canny and James could feel her tug the back of his shirt to halt his momentum up the pitch. Dragging him backwards, he just managed to poke the ball away.

"Go Erin!" He called to his girlfriend.

Picking up his pass, Erin was left to face Orla. She could barely kick the damn ball and now James put her in a nerve-wracking situation to try and win the game. Her cousin was making funny faces at her from the goal, no doubt trying to put Erin off and it only added to the pressure.

Erin took a deep breath. She could do this.

_James believes in me. I believe in me._

With everything she had, Erin blasted the ball low towards the right corner of the goal. The technique was awful, the toe poke to end all toe pokes. And that was the beauty of it. Not expecting Erin's shot to go anywhere near her, Orla was caught off guard by the flight of the ball and comically dived over it. The ball trickled underneath the flying figure of Orla and settled comfortably in the goal.

"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Erin shouted.

2-1. Erin, James and the muddied Clare had won.

James started running to her and lifted her into the air. At the very same moment Joe called time on their game and Michelle stroppily stomped off to the side. Her team dominated the match but one bit of blatant cheating and Erin suddenly not being shite at football doomed them. Orla didn't seem too bothered and instead picked up the ball and the coats on her side, before running past the couple to get the coats the other end. It saved them going back for them at least.

"I knew you could do it!". James joyfully stated as he pressed his forehead into Erin's.

"Not without you though, my wee English fella".

Splattered with mud and smelling of sweat, the two of them manoeuvred into a kiss in the middle of the park without a care in the world. They ignored Michelle's calls for them to stop and Joe rolling his eyes at the public display of affection because they did not care. They were messy and they were perfect.

* * *

Joe took Clare home as promised, leaving the other four to take a slow walk back to the Quinn house. They were all sporting muddy clothes, James the worst off with his black Palace goalkeepers kit covered with brown patches. Orla too was dirty from her hilarious attempt to save Erin's winner and in reality, none of them were in a great state. Michelle's hair was particularly muddy, the dark black hairs held together in places by clumps of mud that stuck rigidly.

Something which not one of them, Joe included, had thought of was Mary. That oversight was quickly noted to be a mistake.

"What the…"

Mary was outside the front, putting a pen back into the car for Gerry that she'd borrowed earlier in the day, when she first spotted the four mud-soaked kids. She was absolutely furious. When her Father pulled up in the spot behind her and revealed himself to be in a similar condition to the kids, the rage within her took over.

"What the HELL have you been up to Da!" She went for Joe first as he was closest.

"Just a game of football Mary, nothing to worry about". He waved his hand in protest.

"Football! In this weather?! Christ are ye trying to give me a heart attack Da!"

Joe took a moment to measure his response but the kids attempting to walk around Mary and into the house stopped him from replying.

"OI!" She shouted at them. "You's are goin' no further ye hear".

"Mammy…" Erin foolishly protested.

"Shut it Erin!" Her mother reminded her of that foolishness. "I won't have mud trapsed through my house like it's a damn farmers market. There are standards in this house!"

Allowing Joe to enter, deeming him the least muddy of them all and giving him a message to pass on to Gerry, Mary barred entry for the four kids who stood nervously in front of her. James had a fair idea of what was coming but the other three all made complaints to Mary, indicating they did not. As soon as Gerry appeared at the doorway, James mumbled to himself about being correct. The hose pipe was out.

"No". Michelle flatly answered.

"Fine. But I'll be ringing your ma to tell her the state you and James are in Michelle, so I'd think about that if were ye". Mary raised her brows and scowled slightly at her.

"Mammy ye can't… hose us down in public. It's embarrassing!" Erin put up another doomed protest.

"I reckon it's brilliant Erin, I love a good hose ye know". Orla mused merrily.

Mary shot Erin a look to say 'see?' and at that moment she gave into her mother and accepted the hose humiliation. The four of them formed into a group and Mary took the assembled hosepipe from Gerry and began to blast the kids with it. They were all numbed by how cold the water was when it flowed out of the pipe and they were given a thorough hosing down by her. She was taking no chance when it came to the mud and anything that looked fresh received annihilation by her. It was a couple of minutes before she stopped. The four kids, now looking more like four drowned rats in the Venice sewers, could finally breathe without the torrential downpour of water. Shivering, they each put on their coats before turning to face the icy expression of Mary Quinn again.

"Girls, upstairs to Erin's room and get showered". She ordered with a wag of her finger and the three girls complied, Erin not leaving without giving James a peck on the cheek first. "And you can help me with the washing while ye wait".

Unable to think of a reason to argue, James did as he was told, taking his coat back off and handing it to Mary as a start when she asked a second later. That proved to be a fatal mistake. The coat he'd chosen to wear that morning was the same coat he had chosen to store a very special object in, one that Mary could under no circumstances find on him. James realised that the second Mary began to shake the coat and then the sound of an object hitting the stone pathway made his heart sink.

The wooden spoon had returned to the Quinn house.

"Shit!" He exclaimed.

"Well shit indeed".

Mary replied shaking her head, her hands on her hips and a face that made Medusa look like Kyle Minogue. Dragging the Englishman in by his ear, Mary prepared to give him the first of many of her educational lessons with the infamous kitchen utensil.

Peter Schmeichel never had to deal with this.

Then again Peter Schmeichel wasn't in love with Mary Quinn's daughter and he hadn't stolen her wooden spoon either.

James's learning curve was gigantic.


End file.
